


Elephant Jokes

by tatooedlaura



Series: Life, Part 2 [17]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: Sometimes a good elephant joke is the only thing to get you through the night ...





	Elephant Jokes

Maggie was asleep when Mulder peeked in so he headed to the front of the house, still confused whether he was in actual reality or a suffering delusion of epic concern. The moment he entered the living room, however, it ceased to matter, given Scully was hushing Hannah, cradling her little face with one palm while squeezing her tightly in a hug with the other. The rest of the littles thankfully slumbered on while Mulder motioned to pick Hannah up, whispering, “want me to take her?”

Scully shook her head, “I’m okay.”

Crouching in front of the small girl, he began rubbing his hand around her ankle, massaging the tiny foot absently, “I’m sorry, Hannah.”

This got her attention and sniffling, she looked at her Uncle Mudler, “why?”

“Because I could have taken you to the beach.”

“Would we have taken Mr. Skimmer?”

Sudden visions of Skinner in a bathing suit made him nearly smile, “no, we probably wouldn’t have taken Mr. Skimmer.”

“Then I’m glad we went to your work. I like Mr. Skimmer.”

Amazed Hannah seemed to have bounced back from her nightmare, Mulder gave her foot a final squeeze, then, “want to try to go back to sleep?”

Hannah shook her head into Scully’s chest, nestling her stand-in mother, “not yet.”

So he settled in, cross-legged on the floor at Scully’s feet, “then would you like to hear an elephant joke?” Hannah nodded, her thumb creeping very slowly towards her mouth, her stuffed koala clutched a little tighter. Knowing Scully saw this, too, he whispered, “how can you tell if an elephant has been in the refrigerator?”

Hannah shook her head, “how?”

“There’re footprints in the pizza.” This elicited a muscle twitch near her mouth indicating a hidden smile somewhere, so he continued, “what do elephants smell like after taking a bath?” Hannah shrugged but looked like she wanted an answer so Mulder complied, “wet elephant.”

The smile emerged, her tear-damp cheeks drying, “tell me another.”

Well, shit, he only had a few in his repertoire, “um, what time is it when an elephant sits on your sofa?”

Before either could answer, Jake piped in quietly, “time to get a new sofa.”

Scully looked at the lump of boy she called nephew, “did you have a bad dream or were we too loud?”

Jake rolled over carefully, shadowed by the arm of the couch and choosing not to answer, “what did the banana say to the elephant?”

This time, it was Scully, “no idea. What did the banana say to the elephant?”

“I don’t know. Bananas can’t talk.”

Mulder groaned, “that was terrible.”

Sam’s voice drifted over, “what do you call an elephant in a phone booth?”

Hannah knew this one, “stuck!”

Scully kissed the top of her head, “good one, Han. Do you know any more?”

Nodding, she quietly asked them, “why can’t elephants go to the beach?”

Mulder knew but didn’t answer, “why?”

“’Cause they can’t keep their trunks up.”

Toby woke and crawled up against Sam, “is it time to get up?”

Reaching across children, Scully stroked his head, “no, Toby, it’s very late but Hannah had a dream and we’re telling elephant jokes. Do you know any?”

“What did the dog say to the elephant?” When no one answered, the 4-year-old smiled a small toothed grin, “woof!”

This went on for another ten minutes, elephant jokes turning into other amusements, until one by one, they drifted back to sleep, Mulder scooping Hannah and tucking her in beside Toby before he motioned for Scully to follow him to the kitchen yet again. Once there, keeping the lights off, pressed by darkness and the soft glow of blue nightlight, he pulled her close, “I still wish I’d taken them to the beach instead.”

“Stop. There’s no earthly way you could have known what would happen so if I hear another word about that come out of your mouth, I’ll have to shut you up any way I can.”

Guilt that would never be alleviated temporarily moved aside to make way for Mulder being Mulder, “gonna kiss me or hit me?”

Mouth on his with a warm, soft, affirmation of existence, she let go of him only after she’d discovered her head spinning from lack of oxygen. Dropping flat-footed once again, she came level with his upper chest and speaking into it, she hugged him tightly, “I just realized I kissed you in front of Skinner.”

“I hope you realize I’m going to keep kissing you in front of him so whatever.”

She shook her head, his shirt moving under her cheek, “’whatever’ is going to make him look at us funny from now on.”

“Please. He’s been lookin’ at us funny for years but now, we get to have sex and get married, so, again, whatever.”

“Are we talking about that now?”

“Have you suddenly changed your mind?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Neither have I so we’re good to bring it up over breakfast or something tomorrow or next week or next month. Right now, I’m just going to enjoy you as best I can in a house full of Scully’s.”

They stood, two-in-one shadow, for quite a time until finally, “I’m going to have to work. They’re going to need all hands on deck in the morgue.”

Pressing his lips to the crown of her head, “can we talk about that tomorrow, too?”

Suddenly, she pulled away, realizing his hands were shaking against her back, “Mulder?”

Mulder dropped into an available kitchen chair, head down, “is it suddenly cold in here?”

“No.” Darting quietly back to the living room, she cursory-glanced the sleeping kids, then grabbed a spare throw from the floor, jogging back to Mulder, putting it over his shoulders. With concern clouding her speech and her hands on his chest, holding the blanket tight, “what are you thinking about?”

Tears ran down his cheeks as he looked up at her, “I nearly killed five kids today.”

Without concern, she climbed up in his lap, bare feet hooked on the rungs of the chair, thigh against thigh, arms snaked immediately around his head as she pulled him to her, “no. No, Mulder. You didn’t. You did everything right. You got them home. You left with five people and came home with six. That’s an outstanding number and you did everything right.”

“But a bomb went off and people died and I had to watch five kids follow Skinner through smoke and chaos and police and fire and a hellish moment in time that’s going to scar them for life or longer.” Shifting away from her, he sobbed a single breath, “Sam called me Mulder. The world changed and he grew up and he called me Mulder and … what if I had …” faltering now, eyes streaming, “what if I had lost one of them? I could never have lived with myself if I’d lost one.”

Thumbs tracing cheekbones, tears running over knuckles, Scully held his head, forcing eye contact, “but you didn’t. You brought them all home. Home, Mulder. You bought them home. Safe and perfect.” She kept repeating ‘home’, waiting for it to sink in that he and the kids were okay, “you came home to me, like you always will from now on. Home to our bed, our couch, our eventual rattle-y dryer and our oft-working hot water tank. Home to where you have seven nieces and nephews and a Maggie who adores you and a Scully who trusts you with all of them without question.” Seeing him attempt to focus, “are you with me? Are you hearing me?”

Nodding under her palms, “yeah. Yes. I came home with them. I came home to you. I’ll always come home to you.”

She kissed him hard. Deep. Pressing herself against him, wanting to crawl inside, soothe his pounding heart, quiet his mind. Stopping just before she dragged him out to the hammock, she stayed in his arms, chest against chest, nose in neck, cotton to cotton, safe in their world.


End file.
